Me
by Nicole Rhiannon
Summary: Chucky reminisces on his life and self through the song "Me" by 1975. (Read A/N for any old readers of "Revenge of Chucky"!)


**A/N: Hi everyone! I'm the author of the story "Revenge of Chucky" that used to be up on here, twice lol. I'm really sorry for suddenly deleting my second attempt of the story out of the blue and without notice, but I had gone through a terrible break up and felt like complete crap for a very long time, and only recently had I gotten back on my feet and began a new happy and healthy relationship with someone else. Plus, I began marching band at my high school, so my schedule was packed. I have some practices now and then, a week long trip in Florida for it coming up soon, but I managed my time and I think I'm ready to start posting again! Here is a one-shot about Chucky's perspective on who he is, based on the song "Me" by the 1975. If you guys really wanna see "Revenge of Chucky" put back up again, just let me know, I'll be glad to try and start doing it! Another note: The character Bella is based off my previous story, if you haven't read it. Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoy :-) **

_Me_

Beats being back alive, does it not? No, this time waking up was not one to be grinning ear to ear for. It was not one to jump back on two feet and rush to the next victim that had to undergo his sick games and ideas. No, no - it was_ much_ different - the feelings swelling in his heart, rushing through his bloodstream was one he was familiar with, of course, but it did not come very often, so it scared him. It scared him, the Lakeshore _Strangler_, the infamous_ killer_ doll, to feel guilt. To feel sad. To _feel anything_ at all, really. He felt this rush of sorrow, this urge to bawl his eyes out, to hit something, but not out of rage or hate, just simply out of pure misery.

But what especially did not help with these emotions was the stupid jagged mirror that rest in front of him. It was there when he awoke, and it clearly had broken from something, perhaps just a regular bathroom mirror or something, but nevertheless it still bothered him. It had some cracks across it from its fall, but Chucky could still make out his reflection in it, and that's another thing that scared him -

Himself.

The large butcher knife he had used multiple times before rest near his feet where he sat. His ice blue eyes suddenly lingered towards it, and when he shakily picked it up, he did not feel a rush of power and superiority as he once did so many times before. Instead, he did not want to hurt anybody.

He wanted to hurt himself.

The doll's eyes traced back to his reflection.

Chucky did not recall opening his mouth, but he saw his mirrored twin say,

"_I got a blade in the middle of the night, don't you mind?_"

His hand shook. He studied his arm, and thought of all the different ways he could slide the edge of the knife up and down his arm, but that's when he felt a tear slide down his cheek. He could hurt others, but he had no guts to hurt himself.

More and more by the second, he felt disgusted. He could hurt Tiffany, he could hurt Glen, but what about _him_?

A feeling possibly even worse than a knife slicing through your body slammed Chucky right in the chest the moment that thought passed through his mind -

_Tiffany. _

His eyes traveled to the mirror.

"_I nearly killed somebody, don't you mind, don't you mind?_"

He didn't mean to hurt her. He never wanted to. He was just so angry. But he knew that was no excuse.

Then -

_Glen._

"_I gave you something you can never give back, don't you mind?_"

A child. Something he never thought he could ever bear one day. He once dreamt about kids when he was younger, when he was tossed from foster family to another - he promised himself, if he ever had a kid, he'd treat him or her like royalty. He didn't keep to that promise, though. You can't just get rid of your kid, can't just decide to push him or her out of your life... it's not how it worked. Nothing could replace Glen, he knew that. But as if Glen would ever accept him back.

"_You've seen your face like a heart attack, don't you mind, don't you mind?_"

He took some time to study his face in the mirror. As a human, he never thought he was exactly that attractive, but neither did he think he was ugly, either. But that was when he had a good personality to bring out his looks - now Chucky had nothing. He knew he was ugly. Not for the scars etched across his face and the torn clothing, but instead for who he was. There was no way a "good personality" could ever take it back, even if he did manage to get into a body.

"_I was late but I arrived. I'm sorry, but I'd rather be getting high than watching my family die. Exaggerate you and I._"

How many people he loved had he witnessed die in his life, either by his own hands or another? There was Tiffany, nearly Glen, Eddie, he watched his mother die by the hands of his father, and...Bella.

Chucky flinched. He hadn't thought of his mother, Bella, nor even Eddie, or anyone from his human life in a while. It made the feeling through his body even worse. He felt an ache in his chest, a new huge burden resting on his shoulders.

"_Oh I think I did something terrible to your body, don't you mind?_"

He should've just died that day, when he was gunned down. Why hadn't he let himself die? He should've. He wouldn't be stuck in this mess, in this stupid body, coming back to life over and over and over for no damn reason, and even if there was a valid one, it wouldn't ever do him justice, because he knew he didn't deserve any type of it. The only positive thing he could ever think came from transferring his soul into this goddamn doll body was that he got Glen out of it. But Glen doesn't know he's grateful for that.

"_I put your mother through hell, don't you mind?_"

The amount of motherly figures in his life he had treated like absolute shit was awful. He was forced to witness his mother being raped and hit repeatedly by his father on a daily basis, and of course Chucky was too much of a baby to tell someone at school. He could've saved her. She could've still been alive right now. They could've moved far away with his sister Bianca, lived in a house together, perhaps his life would've been _normal._ And then, Tiffany, his wife - wonderful mother, she just wanted what was best for Glen, and Chucky was a complete ass. She was willing to change. He wasn't. Why is he so afraid of change? Then... his foster mother. She just wanted what was best for him, she cared so much, and he took that for granted.

"_I hurt your brother as well, don't you mind, don't you mind?_"

Bianca... was with Eddie now. He knew that. It wasn't hard to find people online nowadays, and when he discovered his little sister was now in her twenties engaged to Eddie Caputo, it did not bother him. It made him smile, in fact. Eddie was a good kid, Chucky's best friend all throughout high school. His first real friend, actually. Eddie never hurt anyone, he couldn't even hurt a fly. He was always willing to just help Chucky and his stupid schemes, always being the getaway driver. How could he do that, use his best friend like that? No, not even a best friend, Eddie was like his brother. A brother Chucky had been willing to hurt. That's on the top list of things he knew he could never forgive himself for. At least Eddie made it out alive... with burns all over his body, of course, but he's out alive, at least. Eddie deserves to be alive more than him, Chucky knew.

"_Oh, I was thinking about killing myself, don't you mind?_"

His ice blue eyes met with the ones in the mirror, then to the knife in his hand.

He could do it, right now. Save himself and everyone else the trouble. Nobody had to put Charles Lee Ray down one last time. No, this time he would do it himself.

Maybe he should've killed himself that night Bella did. So he could've met up with her, and together they'd watch Tiffany from above. Watch her lead a good life, watch her get married, have the kids she wanted, the job she wanted. He would've felt better seeing her lead the average life she deserved to undergo.

Suddenly, a harsh swinging of the door was heard, and the knife dropped out of Chucky's hands, disturbing his vicious thoughts. He turned around, and what stood in front of him was the least person he had expected to see.

"Dad?"

_Glenda? _

Glenda was probably the one thing he didn't feel regret about. Technically speaking, he had only spoke to her once. He hadn't hurt her, mentally or physically. Meeting her in human form, with straight ginger hair that rested a few inches below her breasts, and striking blue eyes like his own, made his heart feel something he hadn't felt in a while either -

_Love. Care._ A sudden urge to at least _try_ and be a good person, despite everything.

"Yes, it is you, dad!"

Glenda dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around him. She smelled like vanilla, a rich comforting smell that reminded him of Tiffany.

_Tiffany._ If Glenda was here, so was Glen, and so was Tiffany.

"Oh my gosh, dad," the teen smiled, tears down her face. "I didn't know if it worked or not. I've been wanting to meet you for the longest time."

Chucky blinked in confusion as their hug was released. "Really?"

"Of course!"

He smiled. He stared at the door Glenda came in, realizing that he was the Tilly's attic. Tiffany had kept him here, all this time. He felt a rush of appreciation. She kept him here, with the Amulet, with a curious daughter in their home... It was like a setup, really. But it meant she still loved him. And then perhaps did Glen still too..?

His eyes met back with Glenda.

Only one way to find out.

"Why don't we go downstairs," he reached for her hand, and Glenda bent slightly so he could hold it, "so I can say hi to everyone, and we can try and start this over again?"

Eager for the idea, Glenda began guiding him out the door, and with one last glance over his shoulder, Chucky met his reflection in the mirror again.

"_I love you, don't you mind, don't you mind?_"

The smile on his face was everlasting. Maybe he still couldn't love himself, but he sure did love these guys.


End file.
